The pale body dangling like a white strip made Charlie, who's seen too much of this image, feel somewhat nauseous.

But the sleazy guys around him had already started discussing cheerfully.

Charlie cursed: "You bastards, don't do disgusting things here! If you're really skilled, go woo a few mistresses!"

"Hey, we're just afraid she'd pin us as graduation assassination targets."

"Boss, we're not you; our salaries are too low to afford these sluts."

"The talents we've cultivated can mobilize resources from all corners of the Milky Way. They don't even look at us."

"It's good to have self-awareness," Charlie said calmly, preserving the projection ahead, while continuing to slide the button in his hand as a routine procedure, browsing through several critical areas.

In fact, he preferred to view the footage of the male trainees next door with their muscular builds and smooth body lines, future physical capital to conquer wealthy women across the Milky Way, so alluring.

Of course, Charlie couldn't let anyone know about this preference.

He was the inspector, third-in-command at the base.

The bottom tier where they held serious offenders for these agents to practice killing skills was the most important observation area.

The prisoners there had taken too many gene-based drugs, each like a beast. If a few ran out, they'd cause a minor disturbance.

Secondly, the area needing the most surveillance was the experimental cabin groups at the training base.

Various types of drugs were stored there, including but not limited to various toxins, and even a gas capable of inducing gene mutation in ordinary people, turning them into irrational 'zombies.'

That substance previously caused a small-scale disturbance; a city was infected with the gas, becoming a zombie army, and then... there was no more.

Charlie watched the video material of that incident, millions of uncontrolled crowds wiped out in a few hours under dozens of attacking airships.

Since then, Charlie lost all interest in 'zombie siege' type movies; those folks simply didn't understand the extent to which interstellar era weapons systems had developed...

"Hmm?"

Charlie suddenly frowned, the image he just slid past returned.

"What's with the surface outposts? Which squad is on duty today? How come the bar inside is empty! Hey! You! Are your brains full of filthy maggots?"

Charlie shut off the big screen at the front; the images of those female agents disappeared instantly.

"Boss! Why'd you turn it off!"

Charlie cursed: "Get back to your posts! Where did the ground sentry people go?"

A dozen people froze, looking at their respective monitoring positions, hurriedly dropped their grins and rushed back to their seats.

They pulled up real-time images of the ground outposts and the base's only entrance and exit — the large elevator.

Eight men and women wearing bartender and waiter outfits simultaneously stood in the descending elevator, chatting and laughing with the people around them, seemingly without issue.

"Boss! They're in the passage! Seems the handover point had a problem!"

Charlie pressed a few buttons, his voice appearing in the elevator: "Why did you leave your post without permission?"

A middle-aged man immediately responded: "Oh, it's Inspector Charlie, our post time has ended."

"It's four in the afternoon on this planet now, your post duty time ends at seven in the evening! You're telling me your post time has ended?" Charlie cursed, "Is there a problem with your brain or my watch?"

"But, the message we just received was that duty time has ended... Look."

The man raised the network terminal in his hand.

It showed blurry script.

Charlie frowned, glancing at it a few times, then cursed: "Never mind those now! The outer sentry can't be unmanned! Get back there immediately!"

"Alright, Inspector Charlie, maybe the system had an issue."

The middle-aged man shrugged somewhat helplessly:

"Rest assured, there won't be any accidents; when we came down, we specially locked the bar's door.

"Who would have thought that the entrance to our training base lies beneath a bar cellar?"

"We're about to reach the bottom, once the elevator arrives we'll ascend immediately, it won't take more than a few minutes."

Charlie Guzman sharply sensed something was amiss.

The others kept their heads down, still talking and laughing, as if... they didn't care about his reprimand as an inspector.

Charlie glanced up at the surface monitor, with his cautious nature, pressed an infrequently used back button, rewinding the footage from minutes earlier, witnessing these guys 'chatting and laughing,' closing the bar's door heading into the cellar.

No, further back.

Charlie slid the back button again to the point marked 'guest' by the system.

A man wearing a baseball cap walked into the bar with his head down, going straight to the bar, bowing as if contemplating something.

Then, a pale red halo spread around him, the eight veteran agents in the bar froze, then bowed their heads and continued busying themselves, while the 'bartender' took the man to the restroom.

Wait!

Pale red halo?

In the rapid playback footage, only the 'bartender' exited the restroom, but he was merely walking forward with his head down.

This is, this is!

Charlie's breath became somewhat strained, he suddenly stood up, stared at the man wearing bartender clothes in the elevator in front of him, the other started slowly turning his head, pausing the chat with the woman beside him, the corners of his mouth curled into a peculiar smile.

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